


Open at the close

by Redrocketeer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A little bit of Noct and Prompto, Adjusting and healing, Battered not beaten, Blind Character, Fluff and Angst, Gladio helps, Hope, M/M, Mostly Iggy and Gladdy, Post-Altissia, Spoilers for Chapter 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrocketeer/pseuds/Redrocketeer
Summary: Altissia is the most beautiful place Ignis has ever seen.  It's also the last.





	

Altissia was the most beautiful place that Ignis had ever seen.

While it was true the Royal City had its charms, even there, word of the City on the Sea’s vistas had permeated. He’d always wanted to see it for himself, as long as he’d first heard of it in the reverent tones of his first tutor. There was no place like it, he'd been told and believed. They had driven through desert and forest and dale, over sweeping hills and stone arches and taken deep breaths in what they thought was paradise but here, in Altissia, their breath was stolen.

They walked differently, slowly, turning heads in every direction. The scents of exotic flowers and spiced meats mingled. Every stretch was decorated by plaques or statues or flower boxes. The paving was carefully laid, all colours chosen to compliment. The buildings seemed to have all grown up on the same day, breathing together for a hundred years but hardly aging a week.

The city was a work of art. It hadn’t been why they’d come, they were not tourists, but walking down the boulevard they all felt like it.  
“Oh oh! Could we ride on a gondola, pleeeeease?”  
“That smells amazing!”  
“Isn’t this romantic?”  
Ignis didn’t say much, only when needed. They had things they had to do but they had a little time first and he wanted to let the city speak for itself.  
“Sure,” their prince shrugged. “We need to get to the Maahgo anyway,” Noctis said because it was true and because he wanted to ride one too.

They all piled into the narrow boat and even Prompto was quiet as every turn revealed a new treasure. Ignis closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of water and old wood. Despite the gravity of their tasks to come, in that moment, he couldn’t recall a time he’d felt more at peace.

He opened his eyes a moment later, on the pretense of not wanting to allow them to lose their way but it was really because he did not want to miss anything. Who knows when they’d have the chance to slide past the water as it foamed and bubbled and turned blue to white.

***

Ignis hadn’t realised how well he knew the sound of Gladio’s step until he needed it to find his way. He drew back with a jolt as a passing stranger bumped his arm and hated it. They’d left the embassy on his insistence. He couldn’t say it had been a terrible idea. He couldn’t say he’d made a mistake. He’d be no use to the prince if-

Gladio said if they were going to go then he would take them somewhere. They’d go there. Ignis didn’t argue. Anything to move beyond the length of a room. The raw skin around his eye stung and his temper stung even more so but he bit down on both and kept it to himself. 

_No use to the prince._

He followed the heavy step, his cane sweeping close. He could feel the new glasses they’d given him to protect the useless eye that would open and the ruined one that would not. Prompto had said they suited him but, well, he would say that.

Prompto had stayed to watch the prince and Ignis didn’t envy him. Listening to that slow breath was terrifying. Hoping it would change one way and not the other. It was his place to stay by Noct’s side. It was all of their place, but Ignis had been forced into a new task too. He had to adjust. He had to keep the tension from his face and his voice and the doubt from his companions’ minds that he was on top of his transformation. He had to be there for his prince, his king, even now.

He could tell from the ‘tisking’ coming from Gladio he wasn’t doing perfectly at that.  
“Are we there yet?” Ignis asked, knowing he sounded like Prompto and not minding that his irritation, at least, was showing. Irritation was a sign of strength, not weakness. It was afforded to the assured and the comfortable. Ignis clung to it desperately. Gladio tisked again but quietly, to himself.

“We’re close,” the big man said softly. A large hand rested on the middle of Ignis’ back, reaching most of its width. Because he knew the weight Ignis didn’t flinch this time. “Just down the stairs. Put your hand on my shoulder,” Gladio said in a tone that didn’t invite argument. Tired already from the constant need for heightened concentration Ignis complied, finding a broad shoulder as Gladio stepped before him. 

He felt more secure in the arrangement but knew he couldn’t come to rely on it. He just took the moment to mentally recharge, letting Gladio worry about direction and proximity. 

When they reached the bottom of the stairs Gladio’s hand returned to his back. “Just over here,” he said. They moved off to the left and Ignis felt the paving shift to grass under his shoes. Gladio walked him on a little further before guiding him to a stop. He’d been so focused on the sound of Gladio and the ground just before him he had no idea where in the city they were. He silently cursed he hadn’t been paying more attention despite being at the very edges of his capacity to focus. 

“Where are we?” Ignis said, tone short. Gladio’s tone was soft and close when he answered.  
“Breathe in through your nose,” he said. “Tell me what you smell.”  
Ignis made an irritated noise, he didn’t want to play a game, but even he recognised his own defences winding him up. He could hear that Gladio did too, as plain as day. Denial was useless. He closes his eye to centre himself, from habit, and breathed in.

“Flowers,” he said. “Grass.”  
“What else,” Gladio prompted.  
“Nothin- spice.”  
“What kind?”  
Ignis breathed in again. “Paprika. Thyme.” He frowned. “Too much salt.”  
Gladio chuckled beside him. Ignis wasn’t sure why he was laughing. Everyone was much harder to read these days. It was all so… inexact.

“Then we’ll move this way,” he said, guiding Ignis twenty-three paces to the left. Ignis couldn’t tell how far that took them yet but it didn’t matter. He trusted Gladio and he was starting to catch onto the game. “Breathe in.”

Ingis couldn’t hold in a slight smile or a heartfelt exclamation. “That smells good!”  
“Yeah? Not too much salt?”  
He breathed again. “No. Sage. Tomba root. A pinch of garlic. It’s… flawless.”  
“Then that’s where we’re getting lunch. It’s clear here. Let’s sit on the grass.”  
“I’m not su-”  
“The grass is dry and my stomach is growling. I’m not taking another step without something in it,” Gladio said, tugging down gently on Ignis’ arm.

Ignis knew what Gladio was doing, leaving him no way to argue by making it about himself. It was irritating and patronising but Ignis was stupidly grateful and he sat where he was, un-gloved fingers straying through the sun-warmed grass of the shaken city struggling to come back to life along with him. 

The people of Altissia were afraid. The people of Altissia were brave.

“Here you go,” the gruff voice to his right said, holding out a bowl filled with rice and spiced meat. “Get that into ya.”  
Ignis’ appetite was slim but the taste that filled his mouth was so good each piece was quickly followed by another. He didn’t see Gladio’s relieved smile but he didn't miss the tension leaving him in a sigh. He knew the Shield too well by now not to know how he was responding to each little step. Deep down he knew that went the other way too. He knew it would allow him to let go of some of his defences, soon, once he could be sure he wouldn’t just shake into pieces.

It felt decedent to allow the gentle sun to caress his bones while his prince lay helpless, the Oracle gone, the city living only on pockets of cautious activity. It felt sinful to connect to the simple earth, to find a little peace in the solidity of the sweet soil, the velvet grass. It felt offensive to hum around the heavy weight of well-spiced meat but he needed it. He was going to earn whatever of it he hadn’t already so he allowed himself to take it.

When he was almost finished he let out a sigh, some of the tension creeping back into his shoulders. “How does it look?” he asked, his face turned in the direction of the waterfalls in the distance to show he wasn’t talking about his face.  
“It’s… recovering,” Gladio said, his tone brightening quickly, far too agile to be natural. “Come on. We should head back to His Highness. We’ll take some of this back for the Squirt then you two are having a rest.” He was using that definitive tone again, Ignis noticed. He didn’t argue this time either, just got carefully to his feet. Gladio returned, accompanied by the scent of perfectly spiced meat, his hand back on Ignis’ back as he sensed the other man’s fatigue.

They were returning worn but victorious. There had been progress. There had been a moment of peace stolen among the rubble, a reminder that there were still treasures to be found, even now.

It would only be later Ignis would realise the other gift that Gladio had given him in holding his tongue. To Ignis alone would Altissia be preserved, held in the stasis of his mind’s eye. 

To Ignis alone would Altissia always be beautiful.


End file.
